


The Birthday Party

by Dazzlious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:51:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzlious/pseuds/Dazzlious
Summary: It’s Hermione’s twenty-first birthday and she is determined to celebrate it in true Muggle fashion. Unfortunately, her fiancé, Draco Malfoy, isn’t quite so keen. Will Hermione have the happy birthday she was hoping for or will it spell the end of her relationship with the pure-blood she had thought had managed to conquer his past?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from JK Rowling’s fantastic books or films, I’m just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so. 
> 
> A/N: Yep, it’s another story featuring our favourite couple. Set a few years after the end of the wizarding war, Draco and Hermione have overcome their differences and having fallen in love are engaged to be married, although no date has yet been set. Draco’s parents aren’t ecstatic about the union but tolerate it as they try to shake off their Death Eater past. I hope you enjoy it. Dx

 

Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco as she cuddled up next to him on the sofa.

‘You seem very happy this evening,’ he said as he kissed her, giving her a squeeze.

Hermione grinned widely. ‘Ginny and I have spent the last few hours putting the finishing touches to the plans for my birthday party. I’m really excited about it. It’s going to be amazing.’

Looking far less eager, Draco said, ‘I’m still not entirely sure why you’re so keen to have a party.’

‘Because I’m going to be twenty-one,’ Hermione reminded him.

‘Remind me again why that’s such a big deal?’ Draco asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she looked at him fondly.

‘It’s for my parents, really. Muggles traditionally celebrate their eighteenth and twenty-first birthdays, and as they didn’t get to give me a party for my seventeenth or eighteenth they want me to have a party for my twenty-first.’

‘But you’re not a Muggle,’ Draco said.

‘No, but I’m Muggle-born so I straddle both worlds. Anyway, why would I turn down the chance to have a party? It’ll be fun.’

Draco wrinkled his nose, indicating that he disagreed with Hermione’s assessment about parties.

‘Are you telling me you don’t like parties?’ Hermione asked in disbelief.

‘Not really. I think they have a tendency to be rather boring,’ Draco replied pompously.

‘Maybe the sort of parties you and your Pure-blood friends have are, but mine’s going to be loads of fun. Great music, loads of amazing decorations and a chance to dress up. I’ve picked such a cool theme, and I hope everyone will really get into the spirit of it. You’ll enjoy it, Draco, I promise you will.’

‘Theme,’ Draco said, the word dripping from his tongue like venom. He grimaced. ‘What theme? Please tell me you don’t mean you’re having a fancy dress party.’

Hermione’s smiled faltered for a moment but she soon rallied. ‘Yes, I’m going for a 1950s theme. It’s going to be amazing.’

‘1950s.’ Draco sounded less than thrilled. ‘Why choose then? There wasn’t anything interesting happening in the fifties.’

‘Maybe not in the wizarding world, but there definitely was in the Muggle one,’ Hermione told him, her enthusiasm returning with a vengeance as she visualised the party she and Ginny had spent weeks planning. ‘The fifties was when music became great and teenagers stopped being mini replicas of their parents and began to live their own lives with their own sense of fashion that was completely outrageous compared to what had gone before. It was a time of dancehalls and coffee bars and amazing hairstyles and the most wonderful music – Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly, Bill Hailey and the Comets . . . .

‘It was such an inspiring time for Muggles; long enough after the Second World War that people had started to get money in their pockets again and they could spend it on clothes and music and leisure activities. It was a time that changed the whole history of the Muggle world.

‘. . . I thought it would be fun,’ she finished somewhat lamely when she realised that Draco wasn’t showing the same enthusiasm or interest.

‘I don’t understand why you’re so interested to keep celebrating the Muggle world. You’re a witch, Hermione. You should be celebrating our world.’

‘I’m Muggle-born,’ Hermione reminded him again.      

‘Well, I hope you don’t expect me to get involved,’ Draco said, sounding disgusted.

‘Why not? It’s only a party,’ Hermione said. ‘And you’re my fiancé. Everyone will expect you to be there.’

‘A _fancy dress_ party, and worse still a _Muggle_ fancy dress party,’ Draco pointed out.

‘Why does it make a difference that it’s a Muggle party?’ Hermione asked, feeling rather annoyed now. ‘I thought you didn’t have a problem with Muggles any longer. Anyway, there won’t be many Muggles there, it’ll just be all our friends and my family.’

‘I assume my parents will be invited too, will they?’ Draco asked somewhat stiffly.

‘Of course, they’ve been invited and they’ll be very welcome. It will give everyone a chance to see that your family doesn’t have that awful anti-Muggle thing going on any longer. You know there are still people out there who think your family are all still Death Eaters.’

Draco scowled. ‘My family doesn't really care what anyone else thinks and we never have, Hermione. I very much doubt my parents will go to the party if it’s going to be Muggle-related, especially if they have to dress up for it.’

‘I just thought it would be fun,’ Hermione said, sounding a little upset, disappointment flooding through her at Draco’s dismissal of the idea. ‘Ginny thought it was a good idea.’

Draco snorted. ‘She would. She’s as bad as you are. Have you asked Harry and Ron about it? I bet they aren’t anywhere near as interested.’

‘They know about the party but I haven’t told them about the theme yet. We wanted to get our ideas into some sort of order first and make sure it was achievable before we started building expectations. But I’m sure they’ll be happy to come, whatever the theme. Neither of them is as negative as you are.’

‘So when’s the party?’ Draco asked as if he didn’t know exactly when it was.

‘You know when it is. It’s next month, the weekend after my birthday – Saturday 23rd September,’ Hermione told him peevishly, knowing she had already told him the date previously and unable to believe he would have forgotten it. ‘I’ve booked the conference room at the Black Dragon Hotel in Hogsmeade, remember?’

‘Well, I won’t be coming,’ Draco told her bluntly.

Hermione stared at him in astonishment. ‘What do you mean you won’t be coming? You’ve got to come. You’re my fiancé.’

Draco shrugged. ‘I’ve already told you that I’ve no interest in attending a fancy dress party regardless of the theme or what it’s in aid of. Anyway, I’m busy with work that week and I’ve got a big meeting in Tokyo on the 25th so I need to get over there early to prepare for it. I’ll be leaving on the 22nd and won’t be coming back until the 27th.’

Hermione stared at him in shock.

Unhappily, she said, ‘You’ve arranged a meeting in Japan at the same time as my party? Why would you do that? You knew when it was, I told you the date ages ago.’ She shook her head, blinking away tears. ‘I can’t believe you’re going to miss my birthday.’

‘I am _not_ going to miss your birthday, Hermione. That’s on the 19th and I’m taking you out for dinner that night.’

‘I don’t even know where you’re taking me,’ Hermione replied a touch sullenly.

‘No, because it’s a surprise. But I can assure you that you will enjoy it, my love. It’s going to be a magical evening,’ Draco assured her confidently.

‘Do you have to go to the meeting, Draco? Can’t someone else in your office go instead?’ Hermione asked.

Draco shook his head looking determined. ‘No. I’m the one who’s worked on the project and I need to be there. I’m sorry, Hermione but you’re just going to have to have the party without me.’

‘But I really want you there,’ Hermione told him miserably. ‘Shall I re-arrange it for a different weekend? Another week or so won’t really matter and I can probably get the hotel to change the dates without charging.’

‘But then it won’t be your birthday,’ Draco pointed out sensibly. ‘To be honest, Hermione, I really don’t want to go to a fancy dress party so if you’re going to hold it you might as well make it the weekend you’ve already booked, then we don’t have to ruin another weekend.’

‘I can’t believe how mean you’re being about this. You’re my fiancé, you’re supposed to support me . . . and I can’t believe you’re going to miss my party that you’ve known about for ages for some stupid meeting.’

Draco sighed loudly. ‘Ye gods, it’s only a party, Hermione. I don’t know why you’re getting so upset about it. This meeting is important. You know how hard I’ve worked on the Japanese project and it’s vital I’m there to make sure the final negotiations go smoothly. This is the culmination of six months of hard work.’

Hermione pulled out of Draco’s arms, feeling tears of anger pricking at her eyelashes. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold them back much longer and didn’t want to give Draco the satisfaction of seeing her upset. She just couldn’t believe that he honestly thought work was more important than her birthday party.

‘Well, how nice to know that I’m nowhere near as important as your work,’ she retorted icily.

Draco tried to wrap his arms around her again, realising he had upset her, but Hermione pushed his hands away and stood up.

Trying to be consoling, Draco told her, ‘Don’t be like that, Hermione. You know how hard I’ve worked for this. You’re not less important, of course you’re not. But this is a big opportunity for me and I’d be a fool to turn it down.’

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, then closed it as she appeared to change her mind. She clenched her fists, closed her eyes briefly and counted to ten before announcing, ‘I’m going home. I don’t want an argument with you about this and I don’t want to talk about it any further this evening.’

‘Hermione . . . don’t run away . . . please, darling. Come on, it’s only a bloody party.’

‘It might not be important to you, Draco, but it’s a big deal for me . . . and for my parents,’ Hermione explained, feeling angrier with her fiancé than she had done for a long time. She knew she needed to leave before they ended up having a massive fight. ‘I’m going home. I’ll see you later.’

Before Draco had a chance to stop her, Hermione walked to the fireplace, took a handful of Floo powder from a container on the mantelpiece, and threw it into the fire.

‘Hermione—’

Ignoring Draco, Hermione stepped into the now green-glowing flames.

‘27 Ash Lane,’ she announced clearly, and a moment later she disappeared.

Draco sighed loudly, running his hands through his hair as he stared at the now empty fireplace. He shook his head, then picked up a bottle of wine that had been resting on the coffee table. He poured some into his already half-filled glass, took a large swig, gave another sigh, then pulled a folder that had also been resting on the table towards him.

He glanced at the cover with its label _Euro-Japan Merger 2000_ , then opened it. If he was going to be spending the evening alone then he might as well get some work done.

   

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

‘Did I hear right, Draco, that you’re not going to Hermione’s birthday party?’ Harry asked. His face held a mixture of amusement and incredulity.

Draco looked back at him and shrugged. ‘That’s right. I’ve got a meeting in Tokyo that I need to attend.’

‘You’re a much braver bloke than me,’ Ron said with a gruff laugh as he placed the three pints of beer he had just bought at the bar down on the table, trying not to spill them. ‘There’s no way I’d blow out Hermione’s birthday bash if I was her fiancé, would you, Harry?’

Harry shook his head. ‘Nope. I’m not that brave either . . . or maybe that should be stupid.’

‘It’s not a matter of bravery or stupidity,’ Draco told them acidly. ‘This is an important meeting, the culmination of six months of hard work. It’s important for me to be there.’

‘You couldn’t get the date changed? Even one day later would be enough for you to attend the party and still have time to get over to Japan and prepare for the meeting,’ Ron told him.

Draco scowled. ‘It wasn’t up to me. Anyway, I don’t understand what all the fuss is about. It’s only a stupid fancy dress party. Don’t tell me you two are eager to attend it.’

‘I don’t mind, actually,’ Ron said. ‘I’m quite looking forward to it and at least it’s a decent theme.’

‘It doesn’t really matter what we want, neither of us are engaged to Hermione,’ Harry pointed out. ‘Do you know how much you’ve upset her?’

Draco sighed deeply. ‘I’ve got an idea as she won’t speak to me at the moment. Not that I’ve seen her recently. She’s always _organising_ with Ginny . . . and sulking and bitching about me, probably.’

‘Are you surprised? She’s spent ages creating this amazing party and you, the one person that she wants to attend it, have gone and arranged something else for the same weekend . . . on the other side of the world, too,’ Harry pointed out.

‘Oh, sweet Merlin, not you as well!’ Draco scowled and took a large swig of his pint.

‘Do you think Hermione’s being unreasonable wanting you to attend, then?’ Harry asked.

‘Don’t tell us you didn’t arrange the meeting for that date on purpose,’ Ron added snidely. ‘You knew ages ago when the party was, we all did, and I don’t believe for one minute that it slipped your mind or that you couldn’t have postponed it for a few days.’

Draco sighed and said defensively, ‘Look, I just don’t like parties, okay? I never have done, and the idea of a fancy dress party leaves me cold. It’s not even like I can go along without dressing up and fade into the background. As Hermione’s fiancé, everyone’s going to be looking at me and critiquing what I’m wearing, all judging whether I’ve made a good enough job of my outfit – and whatever it is it’s bound to be bloody awful. Anyway, what’s with all this Muggle stuff that she keeps going on about?’

‘With all your money I wouldn’t have thought you’d have to worry about how decent your costume is. It’s bound to be better than everyone else’s so that’s a pretty poor excuse for missing your girlfriend’s party, even if it’s not your sort of thing. Relationships are about compromise and this is the one time you should really be making the effort,’ Harry told him.

‘Do you have a problem with Muggle stuff?’ Ron asked, his voice a shade cooler than before.

Draco shot him a filthy look. ‘Of course not. I haven’t had a problem with anything Muggle since before we left school. I’m just saying that I don’t understand why Hermione’s so obsessed with it. She’s part of the wizarding world now, for Merlin’s sake, so why does she have to keep dredging up stuff from that mundane world?’

‘Because it’s part of who she is,’ Ron retorted.

‘Maybe because it’s more interesting than the wizarding world,’ Harry suggested a little less forcefully. ‘Fashion in the wizarding world does leave a bit to be desired sometimes and it’ll be interesting for everyone to experience something different for a change. A themed party is a good way to do that without people making the sort of faux pas they made at the Quidditch World Cup – no ponchos or kilts required for Hermione’s party. I’d have thought you’d be pleased with the chance to get out of robes for once. I know I am.’

‘And the music,’ Ron added. ‘Let’s face it, the wizarding world is a bit behind the times. The Weird Sisters are okay but there’s only so much Celestina Warbeck anyone can take.’ He wrinkled his nose disgustedly.

‘My mother loves her,’ Draco said sourly. ‘I think she sounds like a wailing cat.’

‘Mine, too,’ Ron agreed, ‘and that’s putting it nicely. But that’s the point, Muggle music is much better than ours and it’s going to make for a good party.’ He took a mouthful of his pint. ‘I really can’t believe you’re not going to go.’

‘Well I’m not, so get used to it.’ Draco’s voice was chilly now.

‘Is your work really that important that you’d risk your relationship with Hermione?’ Harry asked seriously.

Draco snorted. ‘It’s only a bloody party, for Merlin’s sake. Hermione’s not going to leave me because I don’t want to dress up in some stupid outfit and stand around gabbing to a bunch of dull people all evening.’

‘Thanks for that,’ Harry said.

‘You know what I mean.’ Draco scowled again.

‘You want to bet?’ Ron muttered. ‘This is Hermione we’re talking about, mate. You don’t want her holding a grudge, believe me.’

He rubbed at his head ruefully, remembering the canaries Hermione had attacked him with back in their sixth year at school.

‘She’ll get over it. She probably won’t even miss me once all her friends and family are there. Anyway, once I close this deal she’ll realise I was right to go to Japan.’

Harry and Ron both stared at him, intimating that they didn’t agree with his assessment of the situation.

‘Are your parents going to the party?’ Ron asked, sounding interested.

Draco shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. I haven’t spoken to them about it. I doubt they will, though. As you can imagine, my father isn’t going to be enamoured of the idea of fancy dress, especially Muggle fancy dress.’

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I hope they do decide to go,’ he said slowly.

Ron nodded his agreement. ‘Yeah, I can’t even begin to imagine how hurt Hermione will be if all her fiancé’s family boycott her party.’

‘I’m not boycotting it, I’m just doing something more important,’ Draco retorted angrily. ‘And my parents don’t move in the sort of circles that would consider a fancy dress party as a good evening’s entertainment.’

‘Wow! You think your job is more important than Hermione.’ Ron stared at him incredulously. ‘You might as well break off the engagement now.’

‘And I don’t think being smug about having arrogant parents is a good thing either,’ Harry added.

‘They’re not arrogant, they just have breeding and class,’ Draco snapped.

‘What, and Hermione’s family and friends don’t?’ Harry asked.

He could see Ron lowering at Draco over his pint, his face turning pink, and Harry knew his friend was getting angry. It was well known that the Malfoys had always considered themselves better than the Weasleys despite both families being part of the sacred twenty-eight and this had always been a bone of contention between the two men, although for the last few years both had tried to play down the old enmity between them.

‘You’re twisting my words,’ Draco retorted. ‘My job is not more important than Hermione but it is important, and she’s going to have to get used to it because I shall have to go away for meetings and stuff once we’re married and it’s not always going to be convenient for her – that’s just life, I’m afraid. As for my parents, all I’m saying is that the party is unlikely to be the sort of event they’re going to want to attend, especially if I’m not going to be there.’

‘So, even more reason for you to go, then,’ Ron said.

Draco sighed. ‘But I can’t, as I’ve already explained more times than is strictly necessary.’ He stood up. ‘I’m going to get some more drinks. When I get back we need to change the subject. I don’t want to talk about Hermione’s bloody party any longer, otherwise we’re going to end up having a fight, and that’s really not what I want.’

He picked up the empty glasses and strode away to the bar as Harry and Ron stared at each other in silence.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Draco parked his case and dropped his briefcase onto the bed as he looked around the hotel room and sighed. The place was admittedly every bit as impressive as he had heard it was: cool chrome and crisp white linen in a minimalistic setting, with occasional greenery provided by ancient and no doubt extraordinarily expensive bonsai trees set in strategic positions. But despite this, the room seemed soulless and cold and it made him feel strangely out of place.

That was a ridiculous thought to have because this expensive suite was the sort of thing he had grown up staying in; the opulent and expensive furnishings mirrored the sort of luxury his family had always surrounded themselves with, albeit with a far more modern slant than the décor found at Malfoy Manor. It should have been the ideal place for him to prepare for the upcoming meeting – a quiet and relaxing haven to allow him to prepare to his fullest. It should have almost been a home from home.

Recently, however, Draco had begun to live a completely different life from the one he had grown up in, a life that involved working and not relying on the prestige of his family name to open doors and provide him with everything he wanted. He had carved out a career that was challenging and satisfying and made him happier than he had ever been at school.

It was hard work, that was for sure, but the long hours and difficult tasks made him feel a sense of accomplishment that years of coasting never had. Add to that his beautiful and extremely talented fiancée and the impressive house he had just purchased that the two of them would be moving into after their wedding, which would hopefully be next year — a home large enough for the family he was anticipating they would be starting shortly after — and his life was just about as good as it could get.

Except that at the moment, he wasn’t feeling so good.  

Part of it was pure exhaustion after the long journey, and Draco knew that after a good night’s sleep he would bounce back more than ready to tackle the demands of the preparation work for the meeting ahead of him. But he knew it was more than that.

He was feeling guilty.

Draco had tried hard to compensate for not attending the birthday party by splashing out on Hermione’s actual birthday instead. He had bought her several extravagant and lavish presents and taken her out for a sumptuous and extremely expensive meal at one of the best wizarding restaurants in the country. But although she had enjoyed the meal and was pleased with the presents, there had been an underlying tension between them that had stopped the evening from being perfect.

Hermione hadn’t mentioned anything to him about the party since she had left him on the night he had told her he was going to Japan instead, and she hadn’t mentioned it during the meal, either. But Draco could feel her disappointment with him hanging over them like a storm cloud, and it had definitely put a damper on the evening.

Whilst he had been imagining all sorts of seductive scenarios in the wake of the seriously sensual meal he had arranged, the reality had been far less interesting. Hermione had announced, far earlier than expected, that she was tired and needed to get to work early the following day. Instead of a night of first admiring and then slowly removing the sexy lingerie he had bought her, Hermione had gone home alone and Draco, disappointed himself by now, had no choice but to do the same.

They hadn’t talked much since as both of them had been busy: he preparing for his upcoming trip that was now only a couple of days away, and Hermione doing whatever it was she was doing. They had met for a rushed lunch the day before Draco left, but their parting had been little more than a swift hug and a brief and not very passionate kiss. Hermione hadn’t even looked back as she left him, and Draco’s heart sank as he realised she was still unhappy with him.

He opened the case and removed his dress and working robes, hanging them carefully in the wardrobe, using his wand to remove the few creases before unpacking the rest of his luggage. By the time he had finished the room seemed slightly more homely but it was still missing something.

It was missing Hermione.

When Draco had first arranged the trip he had been looking forward to this evening; his first spent in Tokyo, a place he had never visited before but had intended to make the most of. He had drawn himself up an itinerary of things he needed to see during the next day and a half before he had to prepare for the meeting. It had been exciting at the time, but now he was feeling flat and the idea of exploring the city alone didn’t appeal in the same way as it had whilst he was planning it.

In the end, he left the hotel to go and get something to eat, looking with interest at the mixture of ancient and modern architecture he found on the way — shrines and old lanterns sitting side by side with tall skyscrapers and ultra-modern shopping malls — but he didn’t stay out long and after a simple but delicious meal of noodles he made his way back to his room.

Draco tried to work, but feeling strangely unsettled, he gave up. He tried to contact Hermione, needing to talk to her so badly it hurt, but she wasn’t around and Draco suspected that she was probably with Ginny, putting the final finishing touches to the plans for her party.

He then spoke to his mother, and she gave him the slightly surprising news that she and his father intended to go to Hermione’s party after all. She spent about fifteen minutes telling him all about the costumes they had chosen to wear, which they’d had made especially for the party, and Draco was surprised at how excited his mother appeared to be at the prospect. As he listened to his mother talk he wondered whether all women loved parties or whether it was just him being a freak, that he couldn’t enjoy them.

Draco went to bed feeling guiltier than ever and he suspected that Hermione was going to be even more upset with him. Now that his parents were going to the party it would be more obvious than ever that he wasn’t there.

Morning didn’t improve Draco’s mood, not helped by a bad night’s sleep despite being so tired. After a light breakfast he forced himself to leave the hotel, intending to visit the Meiji Shrine, which had been recommended by others who had visited the city.

The Shrine was interesting enough but he arrived at the same time as a traditional wedding procession: the bride in a white kimono and hood and the groom in his formal black robe, walking together under a big red parasol, Shinto priests clad in white and pale blue leading the way as the rest of the wedding party trailed along behind. It made him think of Hermione, which then reminded him how unhappy she was with him, and the guilt had surfaced once more.

After a brief stop for refreshments, Draco made his way back to the hotel, his desire to explore the strange city now non-existent. Feeling disgruntled and not entirely sure what to do about it, he threw himself onto the bed, closing his eyes as he tried to regain some of the good feeling he’d had when he had first arranged the meeting. He needed to get into the right frame of mind, otherwise he would never be ready in time.

An hour later, Draco knew he was never going to settle. Coming to Japan had been a huge mistake and although it was going to cost him, not just in time but in money and energy as well, he had to put things right; had to go home and join Hermione at her party. She was more important to him than any deal, however hard he may have worked on it.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hermione knew this was supposed to be one of the happiest and best evenings of her life, but at the moment she was having trouble seeing it that way. Because of her and Ginny’s hard work the party venue was everything she had hoped for and more and, thanks to her parents, her outfit was absolutely perfect. However, even with the excitement going on around her she couldn’t completely shift the dark mood that Draco going to Japan had caused to settle within her.

At first she really hadn’t believed that her fiancé had organised a meeting on the other side of the world in order to get out of going to her party, despite what he had told her. Once she had got over her initial anger, Hermione was convinced that Draco was winding her up and kept expecting him to announce that he had been joking or, if there really was a meeting, that he had rearranged the date so it wouldn’t clash with her celebrations. But as her birthday drew ever closer Draco stayed tight-lipped on the subject, and it slowly dawned on Hermione that he had been serious — her fiancé really was going to miss her party for a trip to Tokyo.

Hermione found herself growing so annoyed with Draco that she’d had to isolate herself from his company for fear of saying something that would cause an argument they would both later regret. This had actually been easier than expected as she and Ginny had so much work to do to prepare for the party that they were kept busy every evening after work and at weekends, too.

Although Hermione had felt upset that Draco wasn’t around to assist in her endeavours, sharing the responsibility and excitement as she had expected him to, she had made the best of it and thrown herself into the decorating with a fervour that had really paid dividends and was already drawing compliments from everyone who saw it.

It was just a shame that Draco wasn’t there to enjoy it with her.

Hermione admired herself in the mirror one last time. Her beautiful cerulean dress, a present from her parents, had been made to an original 1950s Dior pattern. Constructed in layers of satin and lace, the strapless dress featured a stiffly boned corset that gave way to a tiny waist, this accentuated further by the massive full skirt under which lay several layers of stiff petticoats. A matching lace bolero and satin kitten-heeled pumps in the same shade as the dress, along with pearl jewellery, completed the look. With her hair tamed into lustrous waves and her makeup expertly applied following a look inspired by Grace Kelly, she looked and felt like a princess.

She turned away from the mirror, looking instead at the entrance to the party.

The outside of the room had been decorated with bright neon signs, suggestively hinting at what awaited within. Hermione’s heart beat faster as she stared through the open doors at a quintessential Muggle American diner from the 1950s, with its black and white chequerboard floor, gleaming chrome accessories, and bright vinyl furniture.

Down one side of the room stretched a long bar with a massive Wurlitzer jukebox at the end, high round stools with red vinyl seats placed at various intervals along it. Down the opposite side were booths, once again in red vinyl, and in the middle were smaller tables ranged around the dance floor, the chairs following through with the red vinyl theme. More neon signs and neon lighting along the bar added to the overall effect.

‘That is astonishing!’ Ron exclaimed as he joined Hermione. He was staring through the door, too, his eyes shining with excitement.

‘Yeah, you’ve made a fantastic job of the decorating, Hermione. It looks really authentic,’ Harry told her.

Hermione smiled and forced all the dark thoughts of Draco out of her head.

‘Thank you. We worked really hard on it, and it’s taken some quite difficult magic to get the neon signs and the jukebox working properly, but I think it’s come out really well. Hopefully everyone will like it.’

‘They’re going to love it,’ Ron assured her.

‘Where’s Ginny?’ Hermione asked Harry.

He shrugged. ‘Still getting ready, I think. I’m sure she won’t be much longer. You look amazing, by the way. That dress is something else.’

‘Those petticoats are something else,’ Ron said with a laugh. ‘You look like you’re about to take off any minute.’

‘Well you two look dapper,’ Hermione told them, grinning.

Ron and Harry were both dressed in baggy oversized ‘Teddy Boy’ suits with thick crepe-soled shoes, their hair styled into elaborate quiffs held in place by a large amount of pomade; Ron’s suit was green with a black velvet collar, cuffs, and pockets, Harry’s was blue and burgundy, and both boys wore shoelace-thin ties with their white shirts.

‘Shall we go in, then?’ Ron asked.

He linked arms with Hermione. A moment later Harry did the same, and the three of them walked through the door and into Hermione’s party.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hermione was having a pretty good evening despite Draco not being present. It helped that everyone had made an effort to dress up and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely and getting completely into the spirit of the party. The music on the jukebox had been playing a wide selection of hits from across the decade since the party started, with the help of a bright blue Teddy Boy-suited DJ who was making the choices, and there were plenty of people up on the dance floor, jiving and bopping to the wonderful music.

Others were sitting in the booths or at tables, enjoying classic burgers and fries with thick milkshakes served to them by waitresses dressed perfectly for the occasion. Even the serving staff behind the bar were dressed up, providing cocktails and beer for those who wanted something a little stronger than malt shakes.

The outfits were spectacular and it was clear her friends and family had taken the trouble to please her by getting them just right. They were so well thought out and executed that Hermione honestly believed it was possible to mistake the party for the real 1950s; a little time bubble within modern day Hogsmeade.

She had been particularly pleased although a little surprised to see Draco’s parents arrive, both dressed in immaculately perfect Hollywood fifties style. Lucius was wearing an expensive tailored suit in silver grey, the cut not quite as flamboyant as the traditional Teddy Boy suits worn by many of the guests but running along sleeker lines, his long hair hidden under a hat. Narcissa stood beside him, encased, starlet-like, in an exquisite floor length ivory gown that skimmed her tall lean figure, a sharp counterpoint to the poodle skirts and ankle socks that seemed to be popular amongst Hermione’s friends. Her usually straight hair had been teased and curled; Hermione thought she looked a bit like Jayne Mansfield.

‘You have created something truly impressive here, Hermione,’ Lucius told her admiringly as he handed her a large box covered in shiny red paper with gold ribbons and a massive bow.

Hermione accepted the gift gracefully, then kissed him on the cheek to thank him for the present, then followed it up with a kiss for Narcissa. She was smiling brightly, her cheeks flushing pink at the compliment, all the while trying to ignore the desolate feeling growing inside her which had reappeared with the unexpected arrival of Draco’s parents.

‘Thank you, Mr Malfoy. We did put in a lot of hard work to make it look authentic. I’m really pleased with how it turned out, especially with everyone making the effort to dress up properly as well. It’s absolutely brilliant.’

‘It looks exactly like the pictures I remember seeing,’ Narcissa said.

Lucius and Hermione both stared at her in surprise. Hermione had never expected either of Draco’s parents to have had any contact with the Muggle world, knowing how extreme their views had once been.

Narcissa shrugged unconcernedly as she realised they were staring at her. ‘I remember us learning about fifties culture in Britain and America when we did Muggle Studies. They showed us lots of pictures of film stars, too. I remember one who was very handsome — was his name James Dean?’

Hermione smiled again. ‘The original rebel without a cause. I used to love that film when I was younger. It think that’s part of why I thought of it as a theme — I used to love all the fashions from those fifties films, and the chance to wear all these petticoats.’ She indicated the skirt of her dress.

‘Your dress is lovely and extremely authentic,’ Narcissa replied appreciatively. ‘The colour suits your complexion perfectly.’ She smiled almost fondly at Hermione, her voice becoming softer as she added, ‘I am so sorry that Draco isn’t here tonight, Hermione. I’m sure you must be missing him.’

Hermione’s smile faded at the mention of her fiancé. She really was missing Draco, even if he had been unfair to her. Surely she wasn’t being unreasonable in wanting him to attend her party, was she?

Lucius answered the unspoken question. ‘Narcissa and I are both extremely disappointed with Draco’s decision, Hermione. We understand the project he’s been working on is important, of course it is, but so was this party, and he made the wrong decision to leave you alone.’ Lucius smiled at her. ‘. . . especially when you’re looking so beautiful. He really is missing a treat.’

Hermione blushed again, feeling a little disconcerted and yet strangely warm and fuzzy. Although her relationship with the Malfoys had improved considerably since she and Draco had become a couple, they had never been quite so openly friendly and approving of her before. Perhaps they had finally accepted that she was going to be their daughter-in-law one day, assuming she and Draco could get over the rift that had grown between them because of this party.

‘The dress was made to an actual pattern from the 1950s,’ she told them, not wanting to talk about Draco. Then, ‘Your outfits are both very good too . . . very Hollywood glamour. Your dress is exquisite,’ she told Narcissa. ‘And your suit is very well cut,’ she commended Lucius.

The couple, far more used to compliments than Hermione, accepted them easily.

‘My parents are over there. Let me take you to see them,’ Hermione said, pointing towards a booth across the room.

She set off with Lucius and Narcissa following her, the couple drawing several interested stares from other partygoers as they walked demurely across the dance floor.            

Hermione put the box on the table of the booth, joining other gifts that were already piled up, her parents acting as custodians. They both stood up as she and the Malfoys approached, and the two couples greeted each other warmly.

She couldn’t help but think how far the Malfoys had come since the end of the war. Years before, Lucius had been dismissive of her family and her as well, but now he and her father were chatting away to each other like old friends and it made her heart glad. Her father was in a navy blue suit that was similar in style, but clearly nowhere as near as expensive as Lucius’, although that didn’t matter tonight, or at any time, really.

Her mother and Narcissa were talking dresses, with her mother admiring Narcissa’s beautiful gown whilst she, in turn, was pleasantly complimentary about Hermione’s mother. Her mother’s look was as different from Narcissa as it was possible to be. She was wearing a pale green flowery cotton dress with a full skirt, although she wore nowhere near as many petticoats as Hermione. The look was finished with a little green jacket, white gloves and a small hat perched on her pin-curled hair. She wore low, kitten-heeled shoes in white, which matched the authentic square handbag she was carrying.    

The two couples sat down in the booth, still talking, and Hermione heard her father explaining to Lucius about the food and drink available. Knowing they were well taken care of, Hermione looked across the dance floor and saw Ginny coming towards her.

Her friend had elected to go for a more casual look and rather than sporting something with a flouncy skirt she was wearing black capris with a short red and white striped Roman shirt and black ballet pumps, her long red hair twisted into a chic look that perfectly matched the outfit. She had George with her, who was wearing the most outrageous and over the top Teddy Boy suit Hermione had seen all evening. It was made of dragon hide and reminded her a little of the suits he and Fred had bought just after they had opened their shop in Diagon Alley. Not for the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts Hermione’s heart hurt a little at the thought of the missing twin.

George swept her up into a massive hug before pulling a small wrapped box from his pocket and presenting it to her with a flourish and a low bow. Hermione grinned at him.

‘Thank you, George. I love your suit.’

‘It is pretty special, isn’t it? I thought it was only right I made the effort considering how much trouble you and Ginny have gone to with the decorating. It really is spectacular.’

‘We did work hard on it, didn’t we, Hermione?’ Ginny said. She held out her own gift, wrapped in blue paper.

Hermione took it and turned back to the booth, adding them to the pile.

‘Do you two want a drink?’ George asked. The girls both shook their heads. Shrugging, George left them to talk and made his way to the bar, joining Harry and Ron who were sitting on round stools.   

‘Everyone’s saying how fantastic the party is,’ Ginny confided happily as she linked arms with Hermione. ‘Your dress is amazing, even better than you described it.’ She considered for a moment, then added, ‘Do you think my outfit looks okay? I thought I’d go for something different but I seem to be a bit out of place. I think I’m the only girl here wearing trousers.’

‘I think you look good,’ Hermione assured her. ‘I love the look and it's just as relevant as these dresses. Loads of women in fifties films wore trousers like that. You look like Audrey Hepburn – she was an amazing style icon.’

‘Do you want to dance?’ Ginny asked. ‘I tried to get Harry and Ron up earlier but I think they’re welded to those stools. They’re just sitting there talking about Quidditch, as usual.’ She rolled her eyes.

‘Let’s have a go at jiving,’ Hermione said as the jukebox clicked over to the next record. Bill Hailey and the Comets’ _Rock Around the Clock_ started up as she followed Ginny to the dance floor.

‘Do you know how to do it?’ Ginny asked apprehensively.

‘Vaguely. It’s a bit like that but maybe not quite so energetic.’ Hermione pointed at Dean Thomas and Parvati Patil, who were throwing themselves around the room with gay abandon.

She and Ginny began to dance.

‘So, Draco really didn’t come to the party, then,’ Ginny said tentatively. ‘I honestly thought he would see sense and change his mind.’

Hermione shook her head, trying to keep her voice light as she replied, ‘No, he went to Tokyo. His work is more important to him than I am.’

Ginny frowned. ‘I don’t believe that’s true, Hermione.’

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. ‘It must be or he’d be here, wouldn’t he? Even his parents are unhappy with him for his decision but it didn’t make any difference, he still went.’

‘Couldn’t he get the date of the meeting changed?’

‘He didn’t even try, and I’m not sure that he didn’t actually arrange it for that date on purpose,’ Hermione said sourly. ‘Can we stop talking about him, please? It’s still annoying me that he blew me out and I don’t want to ruin the party by being bad tempered when it’s all been going so well.’

‘I can understand why you’re annoyed. I would be, too,’ Ginny said sympathetically. ‘You don’t need him, anyway. You got on perfectly well before the two of you got together and there’s nothing that says you have to be tied at the hip now you’re a couple. Forget him for tonight and just enjoy yourself. It’s his loss not being here, not yours. Not only is he missing an amazing party but he’s missing you looking so awesome.’ She grinned. ‘Come on, let’s dance and really put some welly into it.’

Hermione and Ginny returned to trying to jive, joining others who were also attempting the dance equally badly. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

‘I really liked that one,’ Ginny said panting slightly as she, Hermione and George stopped dancing, leaving several other Weasleys on the dance floor as they headed towards the bar to get a drink.

‘It’s called _Hoots Mon_ ,’ Hermione told her, ‘and I definitely need a rest after dancing to it.’ 

‘Are you going to dance tonight?’ Ginny asked Harry and Ron, who hadn’t moved since the start of the party.

Ron grimaced as he retorted, ‘No!’

Harry shrugged. ‘Maybe later. It all looks a bit frantic out there at the moment.’

‘It’s fun,’ Ginny told him. ‘You should give it a go.’

‘Stop nagging him, Ginny. Harry doesn’t want to dance,’ Ron said belligerently.

‘You ought to get up and dance, too,’ Ginny bit back. ‘What have you got against dancing? You never danced at the Yule Ball, either.’

‘I just don’t like it,’ Ron complained. ‘I’m all right sitting here minding my own business. I’m not getting in anyone’s way. If you don’t like it, bugger off.’

‘Don’t tell me to bugger off,’ Ginny said, her temper rising.

‘Well, stop trying to force me into doing something I don’t want to do,’ Ron told her.

Hermione picked up her drink and moved away from her friends. She didn’t need to hear their bickering. It was normal, especially between Ron and Ginny, but it wasn’t welcome when she was still feeling a little flat. She looked at the dance floor. There were fewer people on it now as everyone seemed to be recovering from the previous exuberant number, and the current song, which she didn’t know, didn’t seem to be having the same impact.

She sipped her drink and looked around her, still just as excited by the décor as she had been at the start of the evening.

‘And now I’ve got a special request,’ the DJ announced as the boring song finished. ‘The fella who just asked for this told me to say that it’s for his beautiful fiancé. Isn’t that romantic?’

As the first strains of the much slower music began, Hermione twisted, looking in the direction of the door. Draco was walking towards her, wending his way through the tables and across the dance floor which seemed even emptier as everyone stopped dancing to watch him. He was dressed in blue jeans with turned up cuffs, a crisp white t-shirt, and a red bomber jacket, his blond hair swept up into a quiff. She stared at him in astonishment, not able to believe what she was seeing.

‘I thought you said he wasn’t coming,’ Ginny whispered, sounding surprised. She had appeared at Hermione’s shoulder.

‘I didn’t think he was. I know he definitely went to Japan,’ Hermione told her. She sounded and looked just as shocked as her friend.

Her heart was beating like a drum as she watched Draco strut majestically across the dance floor, not caring that he was the centre of attention. Realising that they were being watched by just about everyone in the room, Hermione moved out to meet him as Ginny took her drink from her.

Draco held out his hand to her and as Hermione took it he studied her appraisingly for a moment, a wide beam of delight crossing his face before he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly as they began to dance.

 _‘Put your head on my shoulder_  
_Hold me in your arms, baby_  
_Squeeze me oh so tight_  
_Show me that you love me too’_

‘What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Tokyo,’ Hermione asked him slightly accusingly, as Draco, surprising her even more than he had already, sang along to the song, which she hadn’t expected him to know.

Draco didn’t stop singing, just squeezed her as he continued:

_‘Put your lips next to mine, dear  
Won’t you kiss me once, baby’_

Now he stopped singing, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on Hermione’s lips, followed by a much more passionate one as he squeezed her even tighter.

‘I love you,’ he whispered between kisses.

Hermione was already almost breathless; giddy with excitement at what Draco was doing, and his words made her heart soar as all the anger she had been feeling towards him melted away. She felt tears spring to her eyes but she batted them away, determined not to ruin the moment by crying.

‘You look so beautiful,’ he told her before taking up the refrain: 

 _‘Put your head on my shoulder_  
_Whisper in my ear, baby_  
_Words I want to hear_  
_Tell me, tell me that you love me too’_

Before the last verse started Draco said, ‘I’m probably going to embarrass you but I don’t really care. I need to take you away, now, before I do something naughty to you in front of everyone.’

His eyes glinted as he picked Hermione up, and after giving her one final brief kiss he carried her out of the room and towards the lobby of the hotel, not caring a single jot about the staring onlookers who were still watching them in amazement.

Hermione’s head was spinning as she tried to take in what was happening, the music fading away as they reached the reception area.

‘I need a room,’ Draco announced imperiously to the concierge behind the desk.

‘I’m afraid we don’t have—’

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t got any rooms,’ Draco said. ‘I don’t believe you’re full up, even with the party. Book it to Malfoy.’

At the mention of his name the concierge’s attitude changed completely. ‘We do have a few suites left but they’re more expensive—’

Once again he was cut off.

‘I don’t care about the cost. I just want a room . . . NOW,’ Draco told him.

 ‘The bridal suite is free,’ the concierge suggested hopefully.

‘Perfect,’ Draco said, his smile widening. ‘Have someone bring us some champagne . . . in about thirty minutes.’

‘Third floor,’ the concierge said, handing Draco the key.

Draco headed towards the lift.

‘I still want to know why you’re here,’ Hermione said once they were in the lift.

Draco stared at her intently for several seconds but didn’t speak. Instead, he gave her an annoying smirk.

‘Talk to me, damn you.’

The lift opened. Draco carried Hermione down the corridor to their room in silence.

‘Why won’t you talk to me?’ Hermione asked. She was beginning to feel annoyed with him again.

Draco opened the door and carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

‘Believe it or not, I was missing you,’ he said smoothly as he laid her down on the bed, kissing her. ‘I had made all the way to Japan when I realised that I needed to be here with you . . . so I came back.’

Draco kissed her again. ‘I love your outfit, by the way. That dress is absolutely amazing . . . but it really has to go. I need to make love to you right now.’

He dived for her skirt, pulling it up, but was confronted with several thick layers of petticoat that created an impenetrable forest.

‘How many bloody petticoats?’ he grumbled as he tried to wade through the layers of tulle. ‘Gods, it’s like a bloody obstacle course. No wonder they never had sex in the fifties. It’s so bloody frustrating.’

‘That’s like Professor Snape,’ Hermione said, chuckling. ‘I always thought having sex with him would be the most frustrating experience ever.’

Draco stared at her. Hermione, realising what she had just said, blushed.

‘I didn’t have sex with Professor Snape or even think about it, really,’ she assured him hurriedly. ‘I just meant that with all those bloody buttons he used to wear it would take forever to get him undressed.’

‘That’s why I’ve got a wand,’ Draco told her smugly, brandishing it. ‘So I don’t have to waste time. I don’t want to wait a single moment longer because we’ve been apart for far too long.’ He paused for a moment, then added, ‘I have to say that I’m glad you didn’t have a secret crush on old Snape, Hermione.’

Hermione blushed again.

Draco caught the look and groaned. ‘What? Oh, don’t tell me you really did have a thing about him?’

‘No, of course not. But he did look quite commanding in those frock coats he used to wear. It was them rather than him I had a bit of a crush on.’ Hermione pulled Draco towards her again. ‘I could definitely get used to you looking like this, though.’ She indicated Draco’s outfit and his hair. ‘Very sexy . . . very bad boy.’

‘You think so?’ Draco asked, feeling pleased with the compliment and silently thanking his mother for mentioning the film star James Dean to him during their conversation about outfits while he was at the hotel. She had been right about the look being a good one for him, and it had given him the chance to find a decent outfit that Hermione really liked.

Hermione nodded then leant forward to kiss him, her hand moving down to the buttons on his jeans. ‘Extremely,’ she whispered, then winked.

‘That dress has definitely got to go,’ Draco told her.

 

 

   

* * *

 

 

 

‘You do realise I already have a room here, don’t you?’ Hermione told Draco.

She was lying with her head on his chest, a half-full glass of champagne clutched in her hand.

‘I wasn’t really thinking about anything other than getting your clothes off,’ Draco admitted. ‘But I needed a room — I don’t think your parents would be very happy about me sharing yours all night. Anyway, knowing you, the bed’s probably still covered in a load of stuff from where you were getting ready earlier. I didn’t have time to clear all that crap up.’

Hermione thumped him. ‘I’m not that messy!’

Draco’s eyes widened as if to say he disagreed, but he didn’t say anything.

Hermione stared back at her handsome fiancé. She really did love Draco and was so glad that he had chosen her over his work and come back from Japan for her party. But he hadn’t just come to the party. He had made the effort to dress up, and as a character she really adored too, and somehow he had learnt the words to that song they had danced to. She had no idea how he had managed to do that so quickly. A sudden thought crossed her mind that maybe he had been winding her up and there had been no meeting in Japan after all. Maybe he had just said that so he could surprise her. 

‘So why did you come back?’ Hermione asked him, trying to disguise the suspicion in her voice.

Draco looked surprised at the question. ‘I told you, I was missing you and realised I’d made a mistake.’

‘But what does that mean for the meeting? Is it still going ahead on Monday?’ Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. ‘Not much, really. I’m going to be completely knackered as I’ll have to travel back to Japan again tomorrow morning and I won’t have as much time to prepare for the meeting as I’d been expecting. Fortunately, after all this time I pretty much know the project inside out so I should be able to wing it if I need to. It’ll be fine, honestly. I just wanted to be super-prepared for it and got a little obsessed and wasn’t thinking straight.’

He sounded nonchalant although he was actually dreading another long journey within such a short timeframe, knowing how draining it would be. It didn’t matter, though. It was going to be worth it to have spent time with Hermione at her party, especially seeing the look on her face when he had first entered the room. He would remember that look forever.

He took Hermione’s glass from her and put it on the bedside cabinet, then wrapping his arms around her he manoeuvred them both so she was lying on her back with him on top. Enjoying the feeling between them immensely, he bent down and kissed her tenderly.

‘I’m sorry, my love. I should never have gone to Japan,’ he admitted.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco’s neck.

‘You came back so no apology is needed,’ she whispered happily, no longer caring whether Draco had been playing a trick on her. He was with her now and that was all that mattered.

‘I couldn’t keep away,’ he said honestly.

After another kiss, he announced, ‘Marry me, Hermione.’

Hermione chuckled. ‘I already am marrying you, remember? We’ve been engaged for six months.’

‘Yes, but I want you to actually marry me, not just be thinking about it,’ Draco told her. ‘So let’s do it when I get back from Japan.’

Hermione looked sceptical. ‘Well, I don’t know if we can do it that quickly. It’ll take a little while to organise. There’s a lot to do for a wedding, you know.’

‘No there isn’t,’ Draco insisted. ‘We can just do it. There doesn’t even need to be anyone else there . . . apart from our parents and a few close friends. Let’s just get married on the quiet and then we can have a lovely big party for everyone else at Malfoy Manor afterwards when we’re ready to share. That would be absolutely perfect.’

Hermione gave him a fake pout. ‘But I was going to organise a big Las Vegas Muggle-style wedding with loads of kitschy stuff and an Elvis lookalike to conduct the wedding service.’

Draco stared at her in horror for a moment, then realised she was joking.

‘To be honest, Hermione, I haven’t even got a clue what you’re talking about, but if that’s what you want we can organise that _after_ our quiet wedding.’ He looked at her hopefully. ‘Please?’

Hermione gazed at his eager face for several seconds, then she smiled.

‘Yes. Let’s get married.’

Draco kissed her so hard that she thought she was going to pass out.

‘We should really go back to the party soon,’ Hermione pointed out when they eventually surfaced for air. ‘You didn’t get much chance to look at the décor . . . and everyone will be wondering where we’ve got to.’

‘Oh, I think they know,’ Draco said with a smirk as he squeezed her. ‘Anyway, I think I’ve probably only got another hour or so in me before I pass out. I really am knackered from all that travelling and I want to make the most of this.’

‘Okay, just a little while longer,’ Hermione agreed, ‘but then we really do need to go back to the party.’

‘I’ll do anything you want, my love . . . anything,’ Draco assured her. 

This time, Hermione was the one to stop his lips with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: As you will know by now, this story features the song ‘Put Your Head on My Shoulder’ by Paul Anka (1959). I heard it playing one day and imagined Draco singing it to Hermione, and thus this story was born. Thanks, as always, go to my beta, Mamacita. Dx


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